


An Unofficial Promotion

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Bobby Singer Deals With Idjits, Firefighter Benny Lafitte, Firefighter Bobby Singer, Firefighter Castiel (Supernatural), Firefighter Dean Winchester, First Meetings, Fluff, Humor, Impersonation, Interviews, Light Angst, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25316536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: "Hi. Sorry to interrupt. I have an interview today with Lieutenant Singer."The two men turn to the new face in the entryway of the garage."Bobby's not—”"Fond of formalities," Dean intercepts Benny. He immediately regrets lending out his hand, which is covered in soot from their last rescue. "Bobby Singer."
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 158





	An Unofficial Promotion

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! It's been a while (: I'm slowly starting to get back into writing. Thank you for your patience <3

“There’s absolutely _no way,”_ Dean rejects. He jumps from the driver’s seat of the fire truck and hits the metallic floors with a clap. “I won’t believe it until I see it.”

“Stop by Bobby’s house on Saturday when the deal goes down. He’s offerin’ me ten _grand._ ”

“For a used boat with more questionable stains than a glory stall?” Dean emphasizes with a scoff. “I’ve known Bobby since before I was born. He went fishing with me _once._ ”

“You jealous, Chief?” Benny asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Right. Here we go again with the daddy issues.”

“The fact that you’re approachin’ thirty and refer to your childhood trauma as ‘daddy issues’ says more about your character than mine.”

“Oh shut up!”

“Oh my lips will be sealed into a tight ass grin when I wave my ten grand cash in front of your stupid Ken Doll face.”

"Hi. Sorry to interrupt. I have an interview today with Lieutenant Singer."

The two men turn to the new face in the entryway of the garage.

"Bobby's not—”

"Fond of formalities," Dean intercepts Benny. He immediately regrets lending out his hand, which is covered in soot from their last rescue. "Bobby Singer."

If the man seems repulsed, he’s not showing it. In fact, he smiles gummily, displaying the full girth of his lips. "Pleasure to meet you, Bobby.”

"Pleasure's all mine."

Dean doesn’t realize he’s still shaking his hand until Benny clears his throat.

"Right. Follow me." Dean leads him up the stairs through the dining room and into an adjunct hallway to Bobby’s office. Once inside, he directs him to the lone seat outside Bobby’s desk. Like Bobby, it’s old and complains when you touch it even the slightest, but no one actually wants to replace it. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you,” the man replies before tilting his head in a way Dean can only be described as—and rarely describes anything as—adorable, gesturing to the sole photo on the desk. "Is this your family?"

Dean laughs nervously, hand flying to the back of his newly flushed neck. "Yeah, yeah. Good ol' mom and pops. Pops passed away not too long ago. Liver cancer. And as far as I go, it’s just me…” Dean fiddles with the frame as he continues, “no family of my own… _yet._ I’m single. Yeapp. It’s just me ‘n my monkey…”

"I'm so sorry, Liete—Bobby."

"I appreciate that... I didn't catch your name."

"Castiel."

"That's right,” Dean says, as if he has any remote idea where his application is. There’s no way his resume photo is better than the real thing. The way Castiel’s blue eyes mirror the sun’s bright rays shining through the partially-opened, dusty curtains is nothing short of breathtaking. “So, Cas, tell me about yourself. What's your, uh, previous experience, I guess? Or personal… you know… do you and a partner run a shelter for rescued cats from firefighter missions?” He laughs.

If Cas is picking up on anything Dean is putting down, he's incredibly modest. Or comfortably straight. "Well, I worked in Pontiac as an EMT for 5 years before I was transferred out to Denver. I lived and worked there about two years, then came here to Lebanon for a fresh start. I'm two weeks out from graduating from fire academy and getting my certification."

"Congratulations, man. That's awesome."

"Yeah, I would've had it sooner, but my marriage fell apart back in Colorado, so that kind of, um...” Cas licks his lips, as if wiping away the next part of that sentence. “I guess you could say derailed me."

Yikes, Winchester. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you. But you know, I do like the idea of that cat shelter. I may steal that—with all due credit, of course.” Cas winks. Dean’s glad he’s sitting down or he may have lost his footing. “I once read a quote somewhere that said you have to put your own mask on before you can save the person next to you in the case of an airplane crash,” he continues, turning to Dean with a small smile. “I thought it was fitting, given our line of work."

"For sure. So, why trade the black suit for the yellow?"

"Being a firefighter has always been the end goal,” Cas clarifies, “I just didn't believe in my potential for a long time. I struggled with low self-esteem most of my life, and as you know, when someone dies under your care, it’s—”

"Earth-shattering."

"Yeah, exactly.”

Dean extends his left arm so the crease of his elbow is exposed. “I got this tattoo for my mom. That’s a halo around the initials. My mom used to cradle me when she told me angels were watching over me. She died in a house fire when I was four. I guess she wasn’t wrong.”

“I’m so sorry, Bobby.” Cas doesn’t wear a pitiful smile. Instead, he nods in solidarity. “My ex-girlfriend did in a fire. Arson. Never caught the guy.”

“That’s rough, man.”

“What the hell is going on?”

The men snap their heads in tandem to Bobby—the real Bobby—in the doorway. Benny’s behind him, shrugging.

"Well, listen man, thank you for stopping by,” Dean rambles before anyone can get a word in, “I've gotta interview a few more people, but you are definitely a stand-out candidate. We'll see in touch."

" _If_ he's still hired. Castiel, right? My interviewee at 1? Bobby Singer, the one _and only,”_ Bobby snaps back, boring into Dean’s soul with those sky blue eyes—the ones that say ‘I used to be a NAVY pilot and I will shoot you out of that high horse plane you’re flying’. “What did he tell you?"

"That you passed tragically of liver cancer,” Cas answers honestly. "I'm sorry, what's—?"

_"Liver cancer?!"_

"Well it’s not out of the question!” Dean argues. “I keep warning you about your alcohol abuse, Bobby."

Bobby sighs and rolls his eyes until he meets Cas’s. “I apologize for Dean’s clear lack of professionalism. Guess you can’t stop a neutered dog from humping.”

For the first time since being in Bobby’s office, he chokes on one of the mothballs lying around. Benny cackles down the length of the hallway.

“Castiel, if you’d like to reschedule, I completely understand—”

“Oh no, um...” Cas glances from Dean and back to Bobby. “I still have some time.”

“Perfect. Dean will be _leaving.”_

And he does… with his tail between his legs.

🚒

To Dean’s surprise, Cas approaches him at the dining table while he’s tracing the initials he carved into it five years prior.

“Hey…”

Dean blinks a few times. “I, um… hi. Look, I’m really sorry, that was stupid of me earlier…”

“Why did you do it?”

There’s no anger behind the question, just genuine curiosity. Dean relaxes his shoulders a little and leads with the truth: “I just wanted an excuse to talk to you."

Scoffing, Cas replies, “Well, you could’ve asked me on a date.”

Dean’s heart skips a beat. He forces a laugh.

Cas doesn’t laugh.

“Oh you’re—you’re _serious.”_ Close your mouth, dude. “I… um—”

"On one condition,” Cas interjects: “If you promise I'm going on a date with Dean—no one else.”

Dean laughs, for real this time, and reciprocates the smile Cas gave him earlier: “Promise.”


End file.
